


Sand Between Our Toes

by arwenadreamer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, all the winchester angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 01:17:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17694836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arwenadreamer/pseuds/arwenadreamer
Summary: This is not what Dean had pictured, when he dreamt of a vacation at the sea.There is an archangel riding shotgun in his noggin´and a boat is waiting with the metal box aboard, ready to take him out onto the open water.This is a short alternative story for 14x12 Prophet And Loss.





	Sand Between Our Toes

**Author's Note:**

> This story is un-beta-ed. So all the mistakes are 100% mine. Read at your own risk. :-)

Dean stood in the sand, a few feet away from the soft rolling waves, jeans rolled up over his calves, shoes in hand. He was staring out over the ocean, face an impenetrable mask of stoic calmness. But Sam could see right through it. Even if it wasn´t for Dean´s tense posture or the death grip with which he clutched his shoes to his side, knuckles shining white, Sam would know that Dean was terrified. Horrified. He jumped down from the gangplank and walked the short distance through the soft sand to take his place at Dean´s side.

_One last time._

Sam had to supress a sob at that thought.

Dean might not even have heard him coming, probably caught up in some horror vision that involved the ocean and that damned box, which was ready loaded at the old boat, waiting for them at the end of the pier.

When Sam´s shoulder touched Dean´s though, the older Winchester tore his gaze away from the endless horizon and looked up to him. There was moisture glistening in his eyes, and his mouth turned into a sad half smile.  
  
“I´m sorry, Sammy. This is not how it was supposed to be.” Dean´s voice shook a little, but he held Sam´s gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“This. Here. Us. Sand between our toes, Sammy. Sand between our t…” Dean´s voice broke and he took in a shaky breath, as he turned his eyes away from Sam, back to the water. When he continued, he sounded detached, as if talking from far away. “I always pictured us in beach shirts. A beer in hand. You reading a novel or some shit, me watching the girls play beach volleyball, maybe join in for a round or two.” Regret was coming off from Dean in waves, when he concluded: “We should have done that, Sammy. Should have.”

Sam didn´t exactly trust his own voice, but he managed to croak out:

“Dean, we still could –“

“DON´T”, Dean interrupted him. “Don´t say that. You know this is the only way. I have to do this. I _have_ to. Or there won´t be any beach left for us to sit on. Or a volleyball team to watch. You know what Michael will do to this world.” He sounded as if he needed to convince himself, yet Sam knew there was a finality behind Dean´s words, that scared Sam more than anything.

“You should take your shoes off, Sammy.”

“What?” Sam was completely stunned for a moment, his thoughts full of monstrous archangels and a suffering big brother.

“Take your shoes off. Let us have at least this moment. Please.” The last word was quiet, almost inaudible.

How could Sam refuse? Dean would spend eternity in a dark box. The least Sam could do was give him one last good memory, even if enjoying a beach was the last thing on his mind. So he bend down and got rid of his shoes and socks. The sand was cool but not cold. Sam pulled his pants up a bit and walked towards the water line. He let the waves roll around his feet, knowing that his brother was watching him. He didn´t really care about the waves, but he knew Dean was searing this picture into his mind. Because that´s what he would have done. What he had done. Collecting as many last good memories of Dean as he could, before jumping into the cage with Lucifer. So if he could give his brother something to take with him into the eternal darkness of the box, he would stay in the ice cold water forever.

When Sam was sure that he had his features enough under control to muster something like a smile, he turned around and made an inviting hand gesture.

“You should come in. That´s part of the whole `Sand between the toes` experience.”

But Dean shook his head.

“No thanks. I´ll get more than enough ocean water for the rest of eternity.”

They both stared at each other and Sam was sure his own facial expression was a mirror of Dean´s, one of horror and sorrow. He couldn´t do this. He just couldn´t. Couldn´t pretend they were on a beach holiday, when Dean was about to face unimaginable agony. He waded out of the water just when Dean said in a gruff voice:

“Let´s go.”

Yeah, Dean couldn´t do this either.

Neither of them bothered with putting their shoes back on, when they climbed up on the gangplank and walked over to the boat, the captain of the rusty vessel already waiting for them.

 

***

 

Sam´s fingers shook so badly, he could hardly manage to close the locks. He had to seal them with a spell, but he needed a few attempts before his voice obeyed him. The captain of the boat probably shot him funny looks when he chanted in an ancient language, but if so, Sam couldn´t see it through the haze of his tears.

When he was finished sealing the box, Sam gave a shaky nod. The captain and the only seaman aboard stepped forward and lifted the wooden plank Dean´s casket sat on with the help of a rope winch.

Up until that moment there had not been a single sound from inside the box, but now Sam could hear Dean frantically moving around, no longer able to supress his panic, as the box began to move. Sam watched in utter horror, as the plank passed the level point and began to decline towards the dark, black water beyond the rail.

“Wait!”, he shouted. The two men looked at him, momentarily halting in their work of winding Dean up.

That´s when Sam made his decision.

“Bring it back down”, he commanded.

The captain looked pretty troubled about the whole situation himself, but he didn´t follow Sam´s orders.

“Look, I´m sorry, pal. But we have to do this.”

“No, you don´t. You can keep your money, but you are going to bring BOTH me and my brother back to land.”

The captain changed a look with his seaman, then tried to explain.

“Your brother told me we had to see this through under any circumstances. Even if you tried to talk us out of it. He made his point very clear. Said if we wouldn´t throw him in the ocean, he would kill us. He was very convincing, I can tell you that.” With that he began cranking the plank up again.

The box moved just the tiniest bit.

Sam saw red.

He had his weapon out in an instant and aimed at the two men holding Dean´s life in their hands.

“LOWER THE PLANK!” His voice left no room for argument. Neither did his eyes. The sailors must have seen it. They stopped in their motion. When they still hesitated, Sam growled with a deep, commanding voice: “Now!”

Whether it was his weapon or his demeanour, both men complied. Sam watched, keeping them on gunpoint, as they slowly lowered the box back to the deck. Inside, Dean´s frantic movements changed to pounding, and angry shouts could be heard, even though mostly inaudible through the iron. The captain eyed the box nervously.

"Dean´s not the one you should be scared of. I am." He leveled his gun right at the captains forehead and continued with a strong voice: “Don´t worry, Dean won´t kill you. He is locked inside a box. We´ll be well out of your way, before I let him out. I´m going to deal with the fallout of this decision, you won´t have to. Now get us back to shore."

 

***

  
Sam sat with his back against the box, watching the American coast draw closer. Dean´s shouting had gone quiet for the moment, but occasionally there was an angry fist smashed against the metal from the inside.  
  
Dean would be beyond pissed, he would feel betrayed and disappointed. Maybe he would never forgive Sam. But Sam was willing to live with that. What he was not willing to live with, was Dean spending an eternity in ~~a cage~~ a box with an archangel tormenting him. ANYTHING was better than that.

Sam didn´t know what to do yet, but he would find a way.

For Dean.


End file.
